


take my hand (take my whole life too)

by citrina



Series: i never wanted anybody else [4]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Bakoda - Freeform, Bakoda Fleet Week, Canon Compliant, Getting Together, I swear I'm screaming, Love Confessions, M/M, This is the most freaking romantic thing i've ever written, implied kataang if you squint, parenting, prompt: free, the inherent romance of hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:07:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25681780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrina/pseuds/citrina
Summary: Hakoda keeps trying to tell Bato how he feels. Meanwhile, the war rages on.
Relationships: Bato/Hakoda (Avatar)
Series: i never wanted anybody else [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1852534
Comments: 14
Kudos: 134
Collections: Bakoda Fleet Week 2020





	take my hand (take my whole life too)

**Author's Note:**

> Bakoda Fleet Week Day 7: Free Day
> 
> Here we finally are on the last day. This has been a super fun journey to write and I've loved getting to spend so much time with these characters. This fic is probably the longest one I've ever written, and one that I'm most proud of. It starts right where the fic "suspend your disbelief" ends and follows the canon plot up to the end of the show. The title is from "I Can't Help Falling In Love With You" by Elvis Presley, aka one of the most romantic songs of all time.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own ATLA or any offical affiliated content. If I did, then Bakoda would have been canon!

The first time, he doesn’t get very far.

Bato’s finally here, and Hakoda can hardly believe it. He doesn’t know how to react- his hands are shaking, his heart is thrumming, his entire body over-energized. He’s simply bursting with the joy of Bato finally, finally, being here. He looks the same: tall and elegant, all long lean lines with an easy, catlike grace. He’s stepping off the ship and running towards Hakoda. He’s really here.

Bato slams into Hakoda with astonishing force, hugging him hard and tight. He feels it too. 

“Hi, Hakoda,” he whispers. Hakoda squeezes back. The only thing he knows is Bato’s arms around him, Bato’s lips brushing against his ear, Bato’s body against his own. Then he remembers that they have an audience, and reluctantly draws back. He grabs Bato’s uninjured arm, elbow-to-wrist, swallowing his mild mortification. Embarrassment isn’t a great look on a leader, and Hakoda will have to take this in stride.

“It’s good to be back,” Bato says, loud enough to be heard by the rest of the warriors, who are staring at them from where they sit eating dinner, eyes wide. Hakoda forcibly tamps down his self-consciousness. Some of the others get up to greet Bato, and Hakoda slips out of the way to let Bato talk to them. He hears their friend Siluk give Bato a good-natured noogie (despite being half a foot shorter) and Bato’s half-hearted protests mingled with laughter. It makes him smile.

Tell him, tell him, tell him, sings the back of his mind. Tell him how you feel.

After a while, Bato makes his way back to Hakoda, his smile wide and open and so, so beautiful. He nudges Hakoda’s shoulder with his own.

“I already ate on the trip here,” he says. “Come walk with me? I have some important news to tell you.”

Important news! Hakoda’s heart folds into a complex shape. Could this be?

“Of course,” he says to Bato, doing his best to keep the anticipation out of his voice. “I’m sure we have a lot of catching up to do.”

They walk across the beach, standing a little closer than strictly necessary. Hakoda’s heart leaps. He’s always been bad at not keeping his hopes up.

“Look, Hakoda,” Bato starts, grabbing him by the shoulders, and Hakoda’s ready to burst. “Right before I left the abbey, Sokka and Katara showed up. They’re in the Earth Kingdom.” 

It takes Hakoda a second to process the information. It’s the complete opposite to what he was readying himself for.

“Wait, Sokka and Katara are WHAT?”

And so the first attempt never really even happens at all.

.oOo.

“What’s that?” Inuksuk, one of the young warriors, points into the sky. Hakoda looks up. There’s something huge and furry in the air- a sky bison. Appa roars loud enough to be heard from afar, which is how Hakoda knows something is up.

Sokka and Aang had left in a hurry only a few hours ago, saying something about Katara being in danger. Hakoda’s been nervous, for both them and his daughter, since then. But to see them back so soon seems ominous. 

Appa descends rapidly, circling the Water Tribe camp and landing with a thump. Immediately, children pour off his back. Sokka comes running over to Hakoda.

“Dad,” Sokka shouts, “we need your healers, now!” Desperation pools in his eyes.

“I need you to find Tiguaak and Umariq right now,” Hakoda barks at Inuksuk, who nods. Before Inuksuk can take off running, though, Hakoda says, “And get Bato, too.” Tiguaak and Umariq may be the best healers they have, but he knows he and his kids will need Bato as well.

Sokka reaches Hakoda and hugs him fiercely. “Azula took Ba Sing Se,” he sobs. “She shot Aang with lightning.”

Shot the Avatar with lightning! Who is this Azula? A Fire Nation general? Hakoda didn’t even know that people could summon such a power.

Hakoda and Sokka rush over to where Katara, a finely-dressed man hugging an odd animal, and an Earth Kingdom girl are sitting. Between them, lying on the sand, is Aang’s crumpled form. The Avatar looks small and singed, his orange clothing in tattered rags. Katara is bending water over his back, her hands steady and eyes serious. She’s betrayed by the tear tracks running down her cheeks, and the way her messy hair falls into her face.

“Katara,” he says, crouching down next to her and the Avatar’s body. She doesn’t answer.

“Katara, it’s Dad,” he tries again, reaching out to touch his daughter’s arm. She still doesn’t look at him, but she snatches her arm away.

“I’m busy healing Aang right now,” she growls. Her tone is uncharacteristically dark. It’s a kick to his gut. The Earth Kingdom girl shifts uncomfortably. Sokka glances between his sister and father, uncertain.

“Chief, what’s going on?” Tiguaak and Umariq, the two healers, are jogging towards them, hands full of supplies. “Who’s hurt?”

“The Avatar was shot by lightning,” Hakoda informs them. Their eyes go wide, and they drop to their knees beside Katara.

Immediately, she reacts violently, eyes wild. “Get back! Don’t touch him!” she screams, hair flying everywhere. She flings one arm out, and a tendril of water from the sea behind them whips at the healers. They scramble back, supplies scattering. 

“Katara!” The Earth Kingdom girl and Sokka both shout together, reaching for her. She shrinks back, arms thrown protectively over Aang’s prone body. Hakoda stares at her with wide eyes. This fierce, feral creature is not what he expected to see when he finally reunited with his daughter. He feels frozen to the sand.

“Katara, they’re here to help!” Sokka grabs his sister’s hand. “They’ll help us. They’ll help Aang.”

Something seems to get through to Katara, because she relinquishes the water whip. It goes crashing onto the sand, leaving a dark stripe like a knife scar on the beach. Hakoda breathes out a sigh of relief. But then guilt starts to rise. How could he have been frightened, even for a moment, of his own daughter? 

Katara reluctantly lets the healers come closer, though she remains a close guard over Aang. Hakoda stands back and watches with Sokka, the two Earth Kingdom people, and the strange animal. It looks almost like a platypus bear, without the beak.

“Dad, meet our friend Toph. And this is the Earth King, Kuei,” Sokka says belatedly, gesturing at the girl and the nobleman. “Toph, Earth King, this is my dad. Oh, and this is Bosco the bear,” he says, pointing at the animal. It grunts.

“Nice to meet you,” Hakoda says to them. Honestly, a bear is not the weirdest thing he’s seen today. The Earth King manages a weak smile, but Toph doesn’t look at him. Her eyes are unfocused, drifting towards the ground. 

“So you’re Super-Chief,” Toph bites. “Nice of you to talk to your kids again.” She scuffs one bare foot against the sand, and it swirls in a distinctly sharp, unnatural pattern. An earthbender, then. 

“Toph!” Sokka scolds, scandalized. Toph scoffs and turns away.

“I’m gonna go check on Twinkle-toes,” she says, which makes absolutely no sense to Hakoda until she walks over to where the Avatar is lying on the sand. The Earth King goes hurrying after her, followed by the bear.

“Sorry about Toph,” Sokka says, sounding very strung-out. “She’s got a bit of an issue with parental figures. And authority figures in general.”

“It’s alright,” Hakoda says. “I know it’s been a stressful day for you all. What happened, son?”

“Azula happened,” Sokka says darkly. “She infiltrated Ba Sing Se in disguise and took the city from the inside. She somehow got the Dai Li on her side. Aang went into the Avatar State -- that’s this thing where he floats and glows and stuff -- and she shot him with lightning.”

This tells Hakoda approximately nothing, but it generates about fifty new questions. He rubs one hand over his face. This was not what he was expecting, today. He hugs Sokka again, because they both need it. His son melts into his arms. Hakoda knows Sokka plays leader in this ragtag group of super-powerful children, but right now he looks smaller and more frightened than Hakoda’s seen in a long time.

“Hakoda? What’s going on?” Bato’s voice calls from behind him. Bato comes running over, taking in Aang’s prone body, the frantic healers, Sokka and Hakoda clinging together.

“The Fire Nation has conquered Ba Sing Se,” Sokka says solemnly. “The Earth Kingdom is done for.”

Bato’s eyes go wide, and Hakoda releases his grip on Sokka, reaching for his friend. They’ll need to discuss their plans, now that the war’s shifted so radically. Nobody could have predicted this sudden, crushing defeat.

“We need to strategize,” he tells Bato. “Come with me to the command tent.”

Sokka looks exhausted, but he returns to the rest of the group surrounding Aang. Bato replaces him by Hakoda’s side, and they make the short walk to the command tent.

“Hakoda,” Bato asks slowly, “What happened?”

Hakoda sighs. “I’m not sure on the details. The Fire Nation somehow infiltrated the city from the inside and gained the government’s trust. Turned its own military against itself. The Avatar got shot by lightning. Katara is trying to heal him, now.”

“Is everyone alright?” Bato asks, stopping Hakoda as they slip into the empty command tent.

“Besides Aang, physically, yes. Emotionally, not so much.” Hakoda stares at his hands. They’re calloused, browned and battle-worn. “It was really hard, for the kids, to see Aang like that. Katara especially seemed really upset.” Guilt, sticky and dark in his gut, bubbles back up to the surface.

“Katara?” Bato tilts his head. “What did she say?” His voice holds no judgement, just curiosity and gentle deference. He knows that Hakoda is shaken too, not just the kids. 

“It’s more what she did.” Hakoda quickly explains how Katara had reacted when she’d seen the healers approach. “I’ve never seen her like that before. She seemed almost… I don’t know, almost unhinged.” It hurts to say.

“Hakoda.” Bato shakes his head. “Stop feeling guilty.”

“I’m not guilty,” Hakoda protests, though he very much is. 

“Well you’re certainly acting like it,” Bato remarks. Hakoda bristles.

“I am not! Look, it’s not that simple. The fact that I was disturbed by her, for a second, makes me a terrible father.” He was more than disturbed, though. He’d been frightened. Of his daughter, who he loved beyond all else, who relied on him to be strong and to protect her. He had been scared of her, and what she could do.

“Oh, Hakoda,” Bato says, and it sounds like heartbreak. “That doesn’t make you a terrible father.” He pulls Hakoda down onto a cushion. They sit, face-to-face, though Hakoda won’t look him in the eye.

“This isn’t important right now,” Hakoda says, reaching for his maps and blinking away tears. He will not let them fall. “We have to plan.”

“Don’t deflect,” Bato says crossly, grabbing Hakoda’s hand and keeping him from getting to the maps. “You need to listen to me.” 

Reluctantly, Hakoda meets his best friend’s eye.

“You are not a terrible father for being afraid,” Bato says. “Being afraid makes you human.”

“But I’m supposed to take care of her,” Hakoda argues. “I’m supposed to love her.”

“And have you stopped loving her, somehow, because of what she did today?”

“What? No!” Hakoda can’t even imagine it.

“So you see?” Bato’s thumb wipes away a tear from Hakoda’s cheek, so gentle he barely feels it. “You could never be a terrible father, because you love her unconditionally.”

“But I was scared of her.” There’s no reason to deny it, now. Bato’s always been uncannily good at seeing through his emotions. 

“You’re allowed to be frightened, sometimes,” Bato says. “Katara is a powerful bender. She did something that would have scared anyone. It doesn’t make you a worse father to be afraid of what she can do, as long as you still love her and treat her the same.”

Hakoda’s crying now. He hasn’t cried in years, not since he left the South Pole. Bato squeezes his hand.

“I know you feel like you can’t feel regular human emotions because you’re the chief. But you don’t have to lie to me. I know you, Hakoda.”

“I know,” Hakoda whispers. “I know.”

.oOo.

Katara still won’t talk to him.

“Katara still won’t talk to me,” Hakoda complains, flopping down onto the Fire Navy cot. Bato hums in response, not looking up from where he’s reading a scroll. This is not a new conversation.

“I just-- I don’t get it! I haven’t seen her in two years, and she won’t even look at me! She’s fine with you, and with everyone else! What’s the problem?” 

“Maybe,” Bato looks up, setting down the scroll, “You just need to give her some time.” He looks so calm and unruffled that Hakoda has to let out a dramatic, frustrated groan.

“I’ve given her so much time, though!” He rolls over onto his belly so he can look at Bato. “I just don’t know what to say.”

“She probably feels the same way,” Bato says, tone even. “You should just tell her how you feel.”

“I’m not sure I know how I feel,” Hakoda admits. “I mean, ever since we got this ship, she’s been avoiding me like the plague. Maybe I should just let her.” It’s been over two weeks since they stole the Fire Navy ship.

“If you let her, she’ll hold a grudge for the next decade. Remember how much effort it took us to convince her that Sokka didn’t intend to lose her toy, that one time?” Hakoda does. It had taken over a week with four adults (Kya and Kanna had gotten involved too), six overwrought apologies from Sokka, and the promise of a brand-new toy before Katara could forgive her brother for the grave error of misplacing Puffy the Puffin-Seal.

“That’s a good point. What do I say to her, though?”

“Like I said. Just tell her the truth. Tell her how you feel.” Bato looks Hakoda straight in the eye, and he almost wonders if they’re talking about something else entirely. “I’m sure she wants to talk to you, too.” 

.oOo.

The Day of Black Sun is today. Hakoda straightens his armor. Its heft seems meaningful, somehow. 

This may very well be the last day he wears it.

“There they are. The Great Gates of Azulon,” Bato says, holding up his telescope. Two huge, dark shapes loom above the water, too far away to make out.

“I don’t see any gates,” Katara comments, squinting through the fog. But Hakoda has studied this, and he knows what is to come.

“Katara, you and the swamp benders whip up a fog cover,” Hakoda tells his daughter. They’re nearing the massive statues quickly, the wind favoring their course. It’ll be only moments until they’re spotted.

“We’ll sneak by them statues just like we sneaked by that Fire Navy blockade!” one of the swamp benders declares, moving into position. Hakoda backs up to let the benders do their work. All around them, fog materializes, and Hakoda marvels at his daughter’s power. He prays to all the spirits that these metal machines work. 

They draw closer. Hakoda calls out orders to keep up the fog, his body coiled with nerves. He doesn’t realize how tense he is until Bato grabs his shoulder. His smile is thin and sad and hopeful.

“This is it, then,” Bato says. “The invasion.”

It feels like an ending. Hakoda knows it’s not.

“This is it,” Hakoda agrees. He’s struck by the thought that this might be the last chance he ever has to say something to Bato. To say anything. 

“Listen, Bato--” he’s interrupted by the deafening ring of the gates. The ropes start to rise, and then they burst into flame. Spirits, everything here really is about fire.

They rush below deck and pile into the submarines. Hakoda spares a moment of regret for leaving behind the Water Tribe ships, the ones he and his men had travelled in for two long years. But they’ve stripped the boats down to the hull, leaving behind only the heaviest pelts and the permanent decor. Everything important was left on one of the ships they’d left at the beach, or brought with them onto the submarines.

As they file in, Bato grabs Hakoda by the arm. “What did you say before, Hakoda?” 

“Nothing,” Hakoda answers hastily, scooting around some of the Earth Rumble wrestlers, who seem to be arguing over what the best type of rock is. Honestly, earthbenders.

“There’s something,” Bato insists.

“It’s just-- what if something happens today? What if the eclipse plan doesn’t work? What if we--” Hakoda freezes when Bato switches his grip from his arm to his hand. He stares at their connected palms. They fit together well. Bato’s hand is warm and rough, weathered by years of fighting, but his fingers are long and elegant. 

“We’ll be fine,” Bato says. “Sokka’s plan will work.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Hakoda worries his lip between his teeth. Well, it’s now or never. “Bato, if we don’t make it out of this alive, I need to tell you that I--”

“Save it for after the eclipse,” Bato interrupts, surprisingly harsh. He lets Hakoda’s hand go. “I don’t want to hear it otherwise.”

“Wha-- Bato.” Hakoda doesn’t know how to respond. His hand feels cold without Bato’s grip.

“After the invasion,” Bato says, this time a little softer, a little gentler. “I need something to look forward to.”

“After the invasion,” Hakoda repeats. “Okay.”

.oOo.

As it turns out, Hakoda never gets to see Bato after the invasion. He’s dragged away by Fire Nation soldiers, singled out as the leader and separated from the group. They strip him of his armor and weapons, and toss him into a tiny jail cell. He sits there alone for hours, nothing but four concrete walls and his own thoughts for company.

Spirits. He was really about to declare his love for Bato in front of everybody, moments before a massive invasion. He really is dramatic.

“Bato,” he whispers into the stale air of the jail cell. “I love you.”

He’s never said it out loud before. Somehow, it makes it more real. Somehow, it gives him something to cling onto.

.oOo.

Hakoda can still hardly believe the war is over. He can’t believe a bunch of kids ended the war, and that they were his kids. He must be the proudest father on earth, although he definitely has quite a few new gray hairs from all his kids’ heroic deeds. Taking down a fleet of airships and facing off with a maniacal prodigy princess? When he was their age, Hakoda was still pranking the village council meetings and flirting terribly with Kya.

“Dad!” Sokka waves and hobbles over, crutches making his gait uneven. Next to him is an awkward-looking Fire Lord. The coronation after-party is in full swing, red banners and glowing lanterns everywhere. It’s very beautiful, even if it is a little too red for Hakoda’s tastes.

“Chief Hakoda,” Zuko starts formally, looking nervous and fidgety as he bows. He worries the hem of his expensive scarlet cloak between two fingers. “It’s good to see you as always.”

“It’s good to see you too, Fire Lord Zuko,” Hakoda says. “Your speech was wonderful. Very inspirational.”

Zuko ducks his head a little, shy at the praise. “Thank you. That means a lot, coming from you.”

“We came over here for a reason, Zuko,” Sokka reminds the other boy, impatient but fond. He turns to Hakoda. “Bato said he was looking for you. He’s over by the buffet table.”

“Thanks, Sokka. I’ll go looking for him now.” With a respectful nod for Zuko and a hair-ruffle for Sokka, Hakoda makes his way towards the massive buffet table, which is loaded with food from all four nations. Sure enough, Bato is lingering in a nearby alcove, munching on a red bean puff. He brightens when he sees Hakoda approaching.

“Hey, you,” he says, offering another red bean puff. “Want one?”

“Sure.” Hakoda takes the puff and eats it in one mouthful. It’s sweet and rich, just like a lot of Fire Nation foods. It’s delicious. 

“So,” Bato starts conversationally. “War’s over.”

“Yes…” Hakoda agrees, unsure of where Bato’s going with this. Obviously the war is over. They helped end it.

“Remember what we talked about, at the invasion?” Bato finishes his red bean puff with a casual bite, but Hakoda can tell he’s nervous. 

“I’m not sure I do,” Hakoda says, still confused. Did he forget something important? 

“I said I needed something to look forward to. I told you to wait until after the invasion. But we never got a chance, and then you never brought it up.” He looks Hakoda directly in the eye. Hakoda remembers, suddenly, like he’s been shot with lightning. He wonders if he has. After all, they are in the Fire Nation.

“I remember,” he says numbly. “Do you know what I was going to say?”

“I think I do,” Bato says. “But I want to hear you say it, anyway.”

“I realized something,” Hakoda says slowly, “A long time ago.”

“I bet I realized it long before you did,” Bato almost laughs. Hakoda’s brows wrinkle. 

“Like I said,” he continues, “it was a while ago. And I should have told you sooner.”

“Hakoda,” Bato says, his amused grin edging into a smirk. “Just tell me.”

“I think I’m in love with you,” Hakoda says, all in one breath. There. It’s out there. It hangs there in the air for a moment, and Hakoda’s heart contracts in his chest.

“Oh, Hakoda,” Bato’s face crumples. Hakoda feels himself start to panic. Was that not what Bato was expecting? Did he not feel the same way?

“I’m sorry, I think I misunderstood--” Hakoda starts, backing away. Spirits, he’s ruined this. He’s ruined the best and longest friendship he’s ever had, he’s ruined everything, he’s such an idiot--

“No, Hakoda, wait,” Bato says. “I’m just really happy. Give me a second.” He closes his eyes, breathes deeply once, and opens his eyes. They’re wet with tears. He’s smiling.

“What?” Hakoda feels out of his body. The lights and the music of the party fade away.

“I’ve waited a long time for this. A really, really long time.” Bato takes his hands gently, and looks at Hakoda. “It’s about time you came around.”

“You mean you-- you love me too?” Hakoda stammers. It’s too good to believe.

“I love you more than you could possibly imagine,” Bato says shakily. “Trust me.”

“Really?” Hakoda’s heart feels too big for his chest. 

“Really.” Bato inches closer. He’s so much taller, and Hakoda has to look up to make eye contact, but he wouldn’t dream of looking away. He doesn’t think he’s capable of it.

“Can I kiss you?” Hakoda whispers, leaning closer still. Bato closes his eyes for a breath, opens them again. He nods once, dreamlike.

Hakoda reaches up and brushes one hand against Bato’s cheek. He leans up. Bato leans down. He closes his eyes.

When their lips meet for the first time, Hakoda feels like he’s finally come home.

**Author's Note:**

> How did I do? Let me know in the comments! Visit me on tumblr at chief-yue.tumblr.com


End file.
